You're heart is free
by Alorang
Summary: When Sileas's village is attacked by the English, she must warn the neighboring clans of the upcoming danger, but is she ready to leave everything and everyone she's known behind when she's still so young? Story of a Scots-Maiden trapped in her own land.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello there everyone! I've wanted to write a story like this for a while, especially now that I'm back in bonny Scotland! As the story continues, you will realize that things won't always be historical correct. I didn't want to write a repeat of history, i wanted to use it and turn it into something new! I really do hope you enjoy it. Please read and review, I haven't got any reviews at all in all of my stories, and it's really discouring, good or bad! I'm giving writing on here one more shot, and if I don't get any feedback, then I'm done /_

_Let me know what you think! Sorry the first chapter is so short! _

_Lauren x_

_My father and brother never returned from their meeting with the English. My heart-broken sister-in-law took my nephew and left the village, heading back home to the southern clans that had better relations with the English border. The men of the our village held a council, deciding if war with the English would be for better or worse. My father was once their leader, and my brother his right-hand man, losing them was only a brief view of what was to come. For the English army was already marching it's way into the highlands, preparing for the next attack. _

"Sileas!"

_I could hear my name being called, through the clashing of swords and the screams of woman and children, I could hear my name being called. I tried to see through the mist of blood and sweat, dodging the bodies falling round me as my people fell prey to the English. There, Alistair was there, kicking an English off the edge of his blade and onto the ground. I ran towards him, looking straight at him, running through the pools of blood as if they were the rain puddles I was so accustomed too._

Alistair tucked me into the crook of his arm, crouching down behind one of the remaining shelters as he passed a letter to me.

"Take this to the Drummond clan, they need warned of this attack, for they will be next! Go Sileas, do not fail me, or your people!"

_I grasped at the letter, unwilling to let it escape my clutches. My hands were sweaty and my heart was pounding, I knew I was the only one that could do this task. Alistair's black war horse was standing between the trees at the forests edge. Saddled and packed with a few basic supplies, including a blanket and some water. There was no time to gather food, I would have to ride without it. The beast remained still as I attempted to climb onto it's back, failing miserably as it was 3 times my height. I placed my foot on the stir up one last time, and the horse fell to it's knees, dropping low enough for me to throw my leg over and balance on the saddle. I leaned into it's neck, whispering a small prayer beneath my breath as it started riding, already knowing it's destination._


	2. Chapter 2

Creighton and Argyle Drummond were names often whispered within my clan. Their father, Artagan Drummond was famous for marrying a English maid that his men once captured. His act had been marked as treason, and only a few clans remained in alliance with him, my own clan being one of those few. Artagan had died in battle however, shortly after his wife died trying to give birth to their third child. The boys were left alone and were forced to lead a village with little help. My father had sent one of his maids over to their village to keep house for them, it was a favor not forgotten.

When I reached the village. Creighton recognized me instantly. He dropped his armful of swords and ran to my horse. Gathering it's reins from my hands and guiding it to the nearest stable. He barely had it tied to a before he was yanking me off the saddle and pulling me into his home. Sending two guards out before slamming the door and locking it. Leaving the two of us alone.

He watched me silently, as if he already knew the message that had come with me. Maybe my solemn face and tired eyes gave it away. Maybe the fact that I had arrived on the horse of well known warrior within our region, or maybe it was the fact that my letter I was clutching had been stained with blood, to whom it belonged, I did not know.

I couldn't speak. All I could do was place the letter on the table and drop my head. I had been unwilling to part with it, for I realized that letter was the last connection to my homeland that I would ever have. That letter and I were the only living proof of the terror the English had caused to my people…..

Creighton took it, ripping it open and scanning in briefly. His face growing grim the more he read. Only a few times did he look up at me before continuing, and I wondered if the letter mentioned me. After he had finished reading, he tossed the letter and envelope into the fire, where I watched its corners bend as the fire took over it, melting away Alistairs wax seal.

"You're horse is being fed at the moment, and my brother is packing you food and drink for the journey ahead. You will travel with our clan to Aberdeen, it is one of the few places that we are welcome, and they will have lodging and supplies for our whole village."

I said nothing, simply nodding my head and folding my hands on my lap, trying to stop them from shaking violently. My trick did not work, if anything, I shook harder. Creighton noticed my knuckles going white as I bit back tears.

"Your father and I knew the time would come when these attacks would reach our people. We just did not know it would be so soon. I am so very sorry for your losses little one, but there is no time for grieving…."

He sighed, shaking his head before continuing.

" I leave you in the care of my brother Argyle, while I inform the village of our move. We must leave within the next half hour if we are to make it to Aberdeen without running into English troops. Stay here and rest. A maid will bring food and drink for you."

"My thanks, good Sir."

He nodded once before unlocking the door, sending the two guards back in to watch me while I waited for his maid to join me.

When she did enter, I realized it was the very woman that my father had sent to aid them in their time of trouble. She looked as shaken as I did, and I remembered that she had family in our clan. She placed a tray of meat and potatoes in front of me, along with a goblet of water. I didn't touch either, only stared at the reflection of the flames flickering across the surface of the water.

Rising from my place at the table, I went to sit in front of the fire. Wrapping the blanket I had over my shoulder closer to my body, trying to block out the sudden chill that had come over me. I could hear the shouts of men and the cries of woman as the village ran around, gathering the essentials for their trip, knowing they might never see their homes again. Creightons loud voice could be heard barking orders.

Why did our village receive warning?

Why couldn't be saved?

I fell onto my side, the warmth of my tears filling my face. Through my blurred vision I could see the orange blur that was the fire, while the popping sounds matched the strange rhythm of my heavy sobs. The last thing I heard was a log shifting before I drifted into darkness, exhaustion and trauma finally kicking in.


	3. Chapter 3

The two-day journey to Aberdeen was quick. We did not stop for rest, and when we ate, it was while walking. I rode with Argyle, while Creighton had my horse packed with bundles of supplies for me. Argyle was quiet most of the time, only responding with a nod or a small yes, or no, when I asked him a question. Eventually I stopped trying and leaned back against him for the rest of the journey. Watching the villagers as they treaded through the hills. Everyone had bundled up as warmly as they could in the brief time they were given to prepare. Argyle had wrapped his large cloak around me, leaving himself with only a deer-skin vest against the cold. On the evening that we reached Aberdeen, the snow had just started to fall.

"Do they know we are coming?" I asked, my voice small as the villagers started to chat amongst themselves, happy we had reached safety. Somehow, Argyle managed to hear me.

"Yes. Creighton sent a rider with word ahead of us."

"How do you know the English did not capture him?"

"Because we could have been attacked during the way, and Aberdeen would lie in ruins."

I fell silent then, watching as the massive gates opened and the villagers scrambled inside. Creighton leapt of his horse and embraced a man standing in front of the villagers. The two had a moment of silence together, before they both started barking orders at either village. Argyle nodded his head at Creighton once, before turning down a dark alley with me. Guiding me towards a large horse guarded by a line of soldiers.

"Argyle Drummond."

The guards said nothing, simply stepping out of the way and letting us in. Getting back into position as quickly as possible.

"Where are we?"

"Bhatair's house. He founded Aberdeen."

"Bhatair's? What is his clan title?"

"He doesn't have one. Bhatair's family was killed, we think, while he was very young. He has learned to survive through his own ways. He was given the title Bhatair during a battle with another clan."

I thought for a moment, then realize why he had received such a name.

"Ruler of an army?"

"Yes."

"I wonder what his birth-name was…"

Argyle said nothing, only slipping off from behind me and tying the horse the nearest pole. He pulled me off and set me down at his side, walking into the house like it was his own. Ordering a maid to prepare a meal and bring two mugs of warm ale. It gave me time to look around. The walls were decorated with animal skins and paintings of distant lands. Above the fireplace was a large portrait of an incredibly beautiful woman. Who's flowing red hair traveled past her shoulders, spiraling in curls down her body to stop at her waist. Her skin was pale, and her plump red lips matched her red gown. She was adorned with jewels and decorations, signs of a high-rank in society.

"Who is she?"

"Bhatair's wife. She disowned her family to be with him, she took care of the ill when Aberdeen was first being built."

"Will I get to meet her?"

"She's dead."

I turned to look at up at Argyle, who was staring at the portrait, a mug of ale in his hand. He took a long drink before continuing, guessing my question before I even stated it.

"Her family was English, and did not take kindly to her marrying a Scots-man. She received a letter one day from her sister, begging her to come home, that their father was on his death bed. Bhatair warned her it was a trap, she insisted on going…"

He took another drink.

"They sent her head back to Bhatair in a glass jar."

My eyes went wide with horror as I covered my mouth, trying to stop myself from releasing the rising sickness in my stomach. As Bhatair entered the house, I realized he had more reason to fight in this war than anyone else.

"That is not a story to tell a child of her age, Argyle."

"She needs to know, she's seen worse, and will continue to as this war continues. Might as well get her used to it."

"You talk as if she is not there."

Argyle merely shrugged, throwing himself down on a nearby chair, draining the last of his mug before nodding at a maid to bring him a new one. Bhatair wandered over to me, slipping his hand over his glove and taking mine. Bending down to place a small kiss on the top. I felt the heat flush to my cheeks.

"You must be Sileas Stewart. I knew your brother well, we used to fight all the time. I always won." He winked, smiling at me as he released my hand.

I smiled back at him, saying nothing as he signaled for one of his maids. She approached, looking down at me for a minute before awaiting orders.

"Take the child upstairs and give her a hot, good, wash. Get the tangles out of her hair and the mud from beneath her fingers. A trunk full of robes has arrived, find one subtle for her then bring her back down to me. That will be all."

She bowed at her waist, taking my hand and guiding me up the stairs. The last thing I heard was Creightons voice as he entered the house, slamming the door behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

"I've never seen a child so filthy in my life!"

The maid said sharply as she pulled the wooden comb through my hair, yanking at the knots while pouring a series of salves and lotions onto my head. Scrubbing in between pulls.

"At least we've got the knits out of your head. That'll stop the itching. Honestly, they had bloody camps set up in there!"

The bath water was starting to get cold she had been working at me so long, but it was nice. We had to change it three times I was so dirty! I had never felt so clean in my life, or looked it. My skin was softer, and it shimmered wonderfully. I smelt like fresh berries and mint, it was a pleasant aroma.

"There, that should do it. You're lovely when you straighten yourself up a bit!"

She offered me a hand, and I stepped out of the bath into a warm towel, where she then rubbed me dry. The fire was popping and crackling merrily, lighting the room with a inviting glow. Snow was falling heavily outside, and it was nice to be sheltered from the weather.

Two other maids went to dump the water, while another laid out a burnt orange robe and matching slippers. When I was sufficiently dry, and my hair had been pulled into a neat bun, I was dressed and escorted downstairs back to the men. There faces changed dramatically when I entered the room.

Bhatair was the first to speak, eyeing me up and down before turning to the maid.

"You're a bloody miracle worker Elaine, she's lovely! The colour of the robe suits her wonderfully. Nicely chosen."

Elaine simply bowed, giving me a small push forward before leaving the room. Shutting the door behind her. Bhatair offered me his arm, and I took it, letting him guide me to the table for a meal. A roast chicken was center on the table, with a variety of side dishes to match. Argyle made a plate for me, setting it in front of me before returning to his own meal. I could feel their eyes on me, watching me closely as I began to eat. Savoring the food in my mouth for as long as I could before swallowing. Taking small sips of wine in-between.

"You clean up well, Sileas" Creighton's voice traveled to me, and I bowed my head in thanks.

"Aye, she'll make a man very happy when it's time for her to wed." Bhatair smiled, slouching back in his chair, drinking heavily from his goblet.

"A few years away yet. We must decide what we are going to do with her now." Muttered Argyle.

"She's welcome to stay here as long as she likes, my home is always open to another. We have a fine tutor that can teach her everything she needs to pass a lady."

"Nay, she's the last remaining of her clan, our main focus right now is to keep her out of harms way. Keep her moving. Argyle travels often, to far places, it would be best if she went with him."

Argyle choked, spitting wine across the table. Creighton and Bhatair just smirked as I continued eating my meal, trying to pretend the whole conversation was not about who would be stuck with me.

"I cannot take her! She's a child! I travel with men, to battle, Creighton, I will not lose my life because I have to keep an eye on where she's running about! Maids to not take part in war, it's too dangerous."

"Think of it though, brother. If she goes with you, if she's trained, she can be just another soldier on the field. It'll help her acquire the skills she needs to lead."

"It's nonsense! She's not coming with me! Besides, even if I did train her to be a soldier, who will marry a woman or war? No man wants a woman whose as good with the blade as he is. Woman are for cooking and pleasure, Creighton, nothing more."

Before I knew it, I had pushed my chair back and I was standing, my hands clenched into fists so tight my knuckles were starting to go white. All three men were looking at me, waiting for what I would do next.

" I do not want to be a bother to anyone, but my father and brother taught me the basics of sword use, just in case. I would be honored to train under Argyle, but only if he will take me, I will not be forced onto anyone!"

"Sileas, go outside and take in some air. We will send for you when the decision is made." Creighton's soft voice drifted to me.

"Yes, Sileas go and get some air." Bhatair nodded in agreement. Argyle said nothing, simply raising his goblet to his lips once more. I took one more glance around the room before turning and heading into the cold night.


	5. Chapter 5

12 Years Later - Sileas is 20 at this time.

The sailors ran down from the ship, many of their wives and children waiting for them. It was a gorgeous day, rare in Scotland, and the soft, gentle breeze and suns warmth felt nice after the past weeks of harsh sailing.

Argyle gave some orders to the last remaining men on board. Men that had no families or homes to return too. Men that considered the ship their home and Argyle and I their family. After they had finished the last of their duties, they would head to the pub, find a whore, and spend the next few days reliving the pleasures they had missed while at sea.

Argyle and I, however, would travel further South, to Stonehaven, where Creighton had settled down after a injury in battle against the English. It had not been all bad though, he'd fallen for a local woman, settled down, and finally had a son. His wife had fallen pregnant again, and they were now celebrating the birth of their little girl. There was to be a feast in the village, and we had been invited.

Both Argyle and I never went anywhere without our horses. They had been two of the first things to be taken off the ship. They had been fed, saddled, and had their shoes cleaned. It was only half a days ride to Stonehaven, but the sun was already setting in the distance, if we were to get there safely, our travels would have to start immediately.

Argyle summoned a small stable boy, who disappeared then came back only a few moments later with their horses. I tossed him a gold coin, watching the young boy's face light up. He bowed, thanked me, then ran home to tell his family their good fortune.

"You just made his day, Sileas. And his family's I would presume."

She placed her foot in a stirrup, throwing her leg over and settling herself on the saddle, giving her black war-horse, Achilles, a pat on his side.

"'twas nothing, just a simple favor of thanks."

Argyle chucked, climbing onto his own steed before nodding at me. Tapping his horses side and moving forward. Heading to the small trail outside of the harbor that would take us to Stonehaven.

"Do you know Creighton's daughters name?" I asked, while reaching for two apples in her bag. Reaching forward to give one to Achilles and then biting into the other for myself. The sweet taste filling my mouth, I didn't realize how hungry I was until I had started eating.

"Not a clue, no one does. It's tradition for the family to announce the child's name in front of everyone at the feast."

"What did they name his son?"

Argyle's eyes went distant, narrowed, frown lines appearing on his forehead. He had made this face often when I had first become his apprentice, when he was troubled with me being around, annoyed, even.

"Artagan."

The name rang out, breaking the silence between us. I recognized the name instantly, for it was the name of Creighton and Argyles father. It was clear that after all these years, it was only Creighton that had moved on since his death.

We rode in silence once more, my own thoughts filling my head. A son and a daughter, much like my father had. Would there come a day when they two of them would ride to a meeting and never return again?

I bite my bottom lip, lost in thought, when Argyle reached out and poked my cheek, a look of concern on his face. Over our 12 years together, he had learned to read me like a book, it was not always something I wanted.

"Stop it. You'll draw blood if you bite down any further."

I nodded, running my tongue over my dry lips before gazing back over at him.

"You think of your family?"

"Aye."

"Sometimes time doesn't heal a wound, sometimes we're stuck with its mark forever."

I gazed at him, and he offered me a smile, leaning over and poking my cheek once more before laughing and riding faster, ahead of me.

"Oi! Ye bastard!"

I tossed my apple roughly, smacking him on the back of the head, making Achilles break into a run until I had caught up with him. He was still picking the bits of apple out of his long, black hair.

"Nice shot." He grinned.

"I was taught well. " I stuck out my tongue at him before giving out a small laugh of my own. Reaching forward and brushing away an apple-seed that had landed on his face.

Our eyes caught, and I pulled back, blushing.

"W-Well." I coughed " Shall we keep riding?"

"Aye" Muttered Argyle softly, and I saw the look of disappointment in his eyes once more.


	6. Chapter 6

Sarah had already gone to bed with the children by the time Argyle and I had reached the house, but she had a fine meal set out for us, and Creighton kept us company while Argyle and I ate until we were full. It was nice to catch up after so many years, it seemed like it was not too long ago that I was sitting at a table with these two men, listening to what would become of my life.

Creighton had aged well, a few scars, and a few more grey hairs, but he still had a youthful charm about him, and his energy filled the room. He spoke mostly of Sarah, who after these many years, still seemed to enchant him. They said that the local doctor had told Sarah after Artagan, they could bear no more children, since his birth was a difficult one, and had Sarah in her bed for weeks. Creighton didn't mind, as he had his heir, but you could tell by the way he spoke of his daughter that he was happy she had come into his world.

When the fire-light began to dim, and a chill crept across the room. We snuffed the candles and went to our beds, settling down for the night. The feast would begin at noon the next day, but the family would need to rise early to prepare. I would help Sarah in the kitchen, though, how much use I would be, I didn't know. As much as Argyle tried to teach me over the years, cooking was never my strong point. And after too many cases of food-poisoning, he had settled for taking charge. He still held it against me every chance he got.

I lay awake for a while, listening to the drunken snores of Argyle, until, eventually, all noise fell and I drifted into a deep sleep, exhausted from the days journey.

The next day, after having breakfast with Sarah. I found myself getting harassed into wearing a robe to the festivities. I had refused at first, but after I had slipped into it, I was happy I obliged.

It was a long, olive green robe with silver lining through out it. The sleeves hung off my shoulders, traveling down my arms to fan out at my wrists. Normally when I wear a robe my muscles make me look like a man, but this seem to conceal it well. Sarah commented that the green matched my eyes, and she was right. It had been years since I had worn anything as lovely as this, and when Sarah had braided my hair, lacing ribbons and flowers into it. I felt like a real woman again.

The men had left early in the morning to start setting the tables and putting up some of the tents for the guests to rest under. I was grateful I had managed to avoid the hung-over Argyle, who is never a joy in the mornings anyway, especially after drinking. Sarah was finishing the last of the cooking, in-between getting ready and keeping an eye on her children. Her son was a quiet boy, and spent most of the time playing with his toys, while helping look after his sister. I found myself getting lost in thought as I watched the two of them. My brother was never as quiet as Artagan, growing up, we pushed each other around and were always trying to get the other in trouble. Maybe Artagan and his younger sister would never be like that.

I rose from my chair to open to door after I heard a small knock, but before I could reach it two men fell into the house, laughing and punching each other. I was getting ready to snap at them for being so rude, but Sarah had already pushed past me and was being swept into a bone-crushing hug. It was then that it hit me, it was her two brothers, I remembered her speaking about having two older brothers over breakfast, but my mind had been somewhere else and I didn't remember that they were coming today.

After they had finished greeting Sarah, the oldest came towards me. He, like Sarah, was fair-headed, tall, and slender. He shook my hand and announced that his name was John.

The second oldest, however, was dark, tall, and built, obviously a fighter like Argyle and myself. His name was William, and charming didn't quite sum up what his personality was like. Where-as John had been friendly, but reserved, William took my hand and planted a kiss on it, before sweeping me into a hug as well. The two took a mug of ale, threw it down their necks, then ran outside to find Creighton to say hello, barely giving Sarah and I time to catch our breaths.

"They're like little boys, aren't they?" She commented, after they had ran off.

I laughed, brushing a strand of hair away from my face before nodding. Settling back into my seat.

"Is there anything I can do to help you Sarah?"

"No thank you, I've been warned about your culinary skills, I'd prefer if my guests wanted to come back again." She winked at me, before turning around to pull some bread onto a tray, carry it outside and setting it on the tables before I could say anything.

The guests starting arriving around noon, many bringing their instruments with them.

Sarah and Creighton welcomed their guests, while Argyle spoke to some old friends, and I wandered around, serving the ale. When the music struck up, many got up to dance, and before long, the tables were empty except for the few older ones who had no energy to be thrown around.

I turned, only to bump into William, who winked and took my hand, leaning into me to yell into my ear over the music.

"Dance with me!"

I shook my head, smiling at him. " No, I really am a horrible dance-"

He laughed, yanking me towards the moving mob. I had to hand the jug of ale to someone as he pulled me by. We pushed past the bodies, getting right into the circle. He placed his hands on my hips, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and we were off. The fast-beat of the drum and the ringing of the pipes made my chest thump, I tripped a few times, but before long, I got the rhythm. William lead me, and when the jumps came, he threw me up in and air and brought me down like it was nothing. I found myself laughing and relaxing more than I had in a very long time.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Argyle looking at us, his face grim. As we rushed by, I tried to make out the words he was mumbling beneath his breath. I watched as Sarah approached him, leaning into whisper into his ear. Never taking her eyes of William and I.

"Sileas suits that robe. I've decided to let her keep it."

"She looks beautiful. I haven't seen her in something like that since she was about ten years old."

Sarah looked up, watching Argyle, a large smile crossing her face.

"What? What are you grinning at?"

"You're in love with her!"

"What? Stop being stupid…there's no way I'm…"

Sarah smiled, simply patting his arm and wondering off. Continuing to greet the guests.

The celebrations continued well into the night, the food that Sarah had cooked was amazing, and everyone ate until they were stuffed. Creighton and Sarah announced their daughters names after everyone had finished eating and had quieted down, they had decided to call her Erena, which was our native tongue for "peace." I could not of thought of a better name for her. The last hour of the evening was the blessing of the child. Each guest would present a small gift for her, and whisper a prayer of protection over her, hoping that the goddess would guide Erena through her journey of life.

After the last of the guests had staggered home, we finished cleaning up and made our way back to bed. For tomorrow, Argyle and I would travel back to the ship, gather the men and the supplies we needed and start our journey once more.


	7. Chapter 7

Yes, yes, I stole the poem from Robert Burns, I know, but it's always been a favorite of mine.

(He's referring to whiskey, if you don't get it :P )

The sun was not up yet when Argyle and I sat down to our breakfast, Creighton, Sarah and her two brothers joined us to be considerate, but the children still slept. William and his brother would spend another night before beginning their journey. Although we would be back in town by mid-day, Sarah had packed us a feast to take with us, and our bags were full when we were saddled and ready to leave, mine included the gorgeous robe that Sarah insisted I keep.

Argyle was pleasant this morning, strange, as he had quite a bit to drink last night and normally his hangovers make him more moody than a woman who has begun her cycle. Maybe Sarah had given him a remedy for his pounding head.

As we said our goodbyes, making our way down the forest path that would lead us back to harbor, I thought about last night, most of my thoughts leading back to William, I got lost in my own world, remembering the way his hands felt on my waist, his warmth even though there was still an evening chill in the air that night.

"Oi….OI!"

I shook my head, quickly looking to find Argyle, who was a good bit ahead of me.

"Oh, sorry…I was thinking…"

"Yeah well, dozy, try and keep up, another half hour and we'll be there."

I grinned at him, tapping Achilles sides so that he caught up with Argyle, before slowing back into pace with the other horse.

"Erena looks like her mother already, doesn't she?"

"Aye" he responded " but she has Creighton's eyes.."

We fell back into silence again, the rain beginning to fall just as we reached town. I slipped down of Achilles, taking his reins in my hand and leading him towards the ship. The men had already begun to load the crates of supplies back on the ship, a few stopping in-between shifts to have one last pint in the tavern. I handed Achilles reins to Patrick, a small Irish man who cooked for the crew. He took Argyles reins as well and lead both the horses onto the ship, taking them to the stables where they would receive fresh hay and a carrot.

The rain was pouring down by the time the men had finished loading the last of the crates, and we all went into the local pub to enjoy a few drinks, the water would be too rough to start sailing again tonight, so we could relax and enjoy our last night on land before taking off tomorrow.

Sitting around the largest table in the pub, some of the men pulled out instruments, a small set of drums, a guitar, and the instrument that Argyle had given me to learn so that I would stay out of his way as a child, a fiddle. We struck up a chord, having played this tune many a time we were all knew each others playing skills and how to keep time together.

A few of the men started to sing, and before long, we had the entire pub going, everyone was clapping and singing merrily, drowning out the sound of the rain pounding the rooftop to the tavern.

My love, she's but a lassie yet,My love, she's but a lassie yet!We'll let her stand a year or twa,She'll no be half sae saucy yet!I rue the day I sought her, O!I rue the day I sought her, O!Wha gets her need na say he's woo'd,But he may say he has bought her. draw a drap o the best o't yet,Come draw a drap o the best o't yet!Gae seek for pleasure whare ye will,But here I never miss'd it yet,We're a'dry wi drinkin o't,We're a'dry wi drinkin o't!The minister kiss't the fiddler's wife-He could na preach for thinkin o't!

As the last of the words faded away, each man raised his pint to the band, their yells of thanks echoing off the walls. It faded, and everyone settled back into their seats, continuing with their conversations as if it had all never happened.

As the sun finally settled behind the hills, a group of whores came into the tavern. Argyle and I watched as every mans faces fell towards them. Our crew looked back at us, begging with us silently. I laughed, nodding and telling them to go, but be at the ship by sunrise tomorrow. I personally, had never seen men scatter so fast.

The fire popped and crackled, heating the room nicely as Argyle and I sat in silence, finishing our pints, consumed by the thoughts of the journey ahead. I gazed over at him, smirking.

"What?" He looked at me, frowning slightly.

"How come you never take pleasure in the company of the a woman?"

"What kind of question is that?!" His voiced raised, drawing attention from the pub. He settled back down, glaring over at him.

"I just wondered why, we've been traveling for years and I have never seen you leave for the company of a woman. You're either with me or on the ship, which I'm on half the time anyway!"

"Maybe I take them on the ship and you don't know it."

"Our quarters are right next to each other, I'd hear the headboard slammi-"

"I'm getting another pint!"

Argyle jumped from his seat, yelling his words as he walked towards the bar, cash already in hand to pay for his drink. As I watched him, I'm sure….for the very first time in my life….

I saw Argyle Drummond blush.


	8. Chapter 8

The sun was not yet in the sky when I woke the next day, the morning chill creeping into my room, I wrapped the sheet around my naked body, rising out of the bed to close the window and draw the curtains. Peeping out the window before I did so, I could see Argyle at the front of the tavern, his armor already on and his bags over his shoulder as he went to the local butchers, getting the meat he needed for the journey, as we would be sailing for a fortnight before we saw land again. I made my way to the chair to that I had thrown my clothes over the night before, and saw that they were missing. Instead, they had been washed and folded, placed on top of the trunk at the end of my bed.

I was used to sleeping through noise and movement, you have to grow accustomed too it when you're on a ship, but it was rare that someone could come into my room and move my things without me waking almost immediately. I glanced around, making sure that everything else was still in place. It was, including my sword, which was still lying under my pillow, sheathed but still there. I picked up my armor, instead of putting it on, placing it back inside the trunk. There was no need for me to wear my heavy armor when we were sailing through the safe routes for the next few days. Instead, I chose to wear my white, cloth shirt, black trousers, and black and white leather boots. It was comfortable, and still thick enough to keep the cold away while on deck. I moved the pillow, grabbing by sword and fastening it round my waist, there was an odd comfort in having the cold metal so close to my skin, so close to my hand that if anyone dare to try and strike me, the metal of my blade would have pierced their skin before they had taken their next breath.

As I threw the sheets back over the bed, roughly making it up for the next person to lie in it, my mind drifted, and I remembered when I had first gone sailing with Argyle. My fate had been decided, and having no choice in the matter, I prepared for a life at sea. Thankfully, I did not take ill, but I could not sleep at night because of the movement of the ship. Although Argyle had not been especially kind to me, he was the only person I knew on the ship, so when I could not rest, I climbed into his bed. At first, he had forced me into my own tiny corner with little blanket, hoping that I would be so uncomfortable that I would move back to my own bed. But as the weeks went by, he let me in, and after a while I could tuck myself into the curve of his arm, and feel myself being lulled to sleep by the warmth and safeness that was his embrace. When I eventually stop coming to his bed, it took me weeks to adjusted to sleeping alone, but the movement of the ship no longer bothered me.

A sharp knock at my door broke my thoughts, and I quickly made my way to the door, marching past the maid who had a tray bearing bread and ale, and out the front door of the tavern. Argyle and I stayed at this inn every time we docked here, so the owners knew the rules, my trunk would be delivered to the ship within the next half hour, and then we would sail. The weather had cleared enough for us to start our journey, though over the next week it would get rougher. Thankfully, our men had grown adjusted to rough sailing, and no longer spent their time with their heads hanging over the ship. Though, if as many of them are nursing the hangovers I think they will be, there will still be a few who are ill.

Making my way down the cobblestone street, the city had started to come to life, the sun had risen into the sky and the market stalls were opening. I could see Argyles outline coming up the path, and I waited until he had reached me before taking a few bags from him and walking with him towards the ship.

"How did you sleep?"

"Aye, nae bad…after you went to your bed I had a few more drinks, it cleared out pretty quick after you and the band left."

I simply nodded, I had not fallen straight asleep and heard the clink of glasses and the shuffling of chairs as people rose to leave, it was only when it had gone truly quiet that I had started to fall asleep. I heard Argyle, staggering and bashing walls as he made his way to his bed. It was still more comfortable to know that he was drunk, but in the room next to me, than sober and in the bar downstairs.

"Captain!"

Sharing the title onboard the ship meant that we both earned equal amounts of respect, and although we very rarely made decisions without consulting one-another, it meant that the men had to listen to either of us in case we had too.

We both turned, only to see Patrick running up to us, Patrick was short, fat, and lived off tobacco, so when he did finally reach us, we had to wait for him to catch his breath before hearing what he had summoned us for.

"Donald…hasn't…reported…to…the…ship." Patrick wheezed.

Argyle and I looked at each other, the ship was ready and all we had to do was raise anchor and then we were off. It wasn't like Donald to come in late for duty, and he was one of the most valuable members of the crew, leaving him behind seemed like a bad idea. Nodding at each other, we threw our bags at Patrick, who staggered under the weight.

"Take them to the ship and put them in our chambers, we'll be back in ten minutes at the most."

He nodded, making his way towards the ship slowly, careful not to drop our belongings.

"Donald wasn't drunk last night when he left, and even if he was, he's had more than enough time to sleep that off.."

"If he was sleeping…"

"What do you mean?" Argyle glanced over at me, and I immediately realized what he was saying. Donald had left with one of the whores last night. Our feet knowing the path, as it was not the first time we had to chase one our men out of their beds, we made our way towards the whore-house at the edge of the street, it looked dark and unwelcoming compared to the other houses and shops along the way. It's lights out and empty bottles of whiskey lying outside, broken glass across the wooden porch. As I went to open the door, Donald was coming out, still buttoning his shirt, sleep in the corner of his eyes and his hair un-brushed. Argyle grabbed the front of his shirt and put him in the middle of us, together, we leaned in and yelled " MORNIN'!" as loud as we could into Donalds ears. He look like he was ready to cry.

"Might want to put your jacket on Donald, you're on cleaning duty for the rest of this week."

"But Capta-!'

"You heard her" Said Argyle, silencing him. Donald hung his head, cleaning duty was the worse job for the ship, it involved scraping mold of walls, cleaning the holding cells, cleaning the horse shit, and any spew from men that didn't quite make it to the edge of the ship on time. All in all, a worthy punishment for holding us back.

The morning fog had cleared by the time we made it back to the ship, and although it was already start to spit rain, the sun was trying to make it's way through the clouds for us. As Argyle and I climbed on board the ship, we waited for the men who had families to say goodbye and join us, their wives and children waving from below with tears in their eyes. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Patrick holding a small, dark-haired woman's hands, before leaning down and sweeping a young boy into a hug. He handed them a small bag of money before climbing up the ramp and joining me.

"I didn't realize you had family, Patrick. I assumed they were all over in your homeland."

"Mi' sister and my nephew, Captain, our husband was killed by the English, just like mi' wife and daughter, we've only got each other really."

"Do you plan on letting the boy join the crew when he comes of age?"

"No, Captain. I mean no disrespect to you on any of the crew, but I don't want him to work at sea, I've put him in school, you see, want him to become something more, maybe a doctor, even if it's just a local town one."

"Then I pray to the Gods that your wishes for him come true."

"Thank you Captain."

He offered a small bow before going below, our first meal tonight would be soup, something hot, but light, to get the men adjusted to sailing again. Although most of our stomachs were in-tune with the sea now, the men had just had a few days of eating thick meals and drinking too much, it can take it's toll. Argyle, who had sailed with his father as a child, would be the only one to eat a real meal.

"Raise Anchor! Prepare to Sail!" I could hear Argyle barking orders, making sure the men were prepared for today. I took one last look at Patrick's family before tugging on small black leather gloves and moving away from the side of the ship. I grabbed a robe that one of our younger crew members was struggling with, and helped him raise the sails. Unlike most ships, we sailed with blue sails, the crosses of white sails in-between made our allegiance well known. As the winds caught and we started to gain speed, the harbor disappearing into the last of the fog, I realize that we would have to change sails soon, as the English were putting more and more of the navy into these waters.

Once the men had caught the pace, and were going about with the basic duties, I knew that I was no longer needed on deck, and went to find Argyle. I could him shuffling about in his wardroom, and knocking the door lightly, I heard his grunt of acceptance.

"Captain." I said, smiling at him ever so lightly.

He looked up me, offering a smile in return before returning his gaze to the map laid out in front of us, I placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning down to look at what he had planned.

"We're no longer sailing by Bruichladdich?"

"No, we'll have to go round Corpach and take the long way, the English landed at Bruichladdich, Leon sent a letter warning us."

"Good man, good man."

We stood in silence, lost in thought. I jumped slightly as I realized that Argyle had placed his hand on mine that was resting on his shoulder. Lacing his gloved fingers through my own.

"We'll be fine Argyle.."

"The English are taking more and more control of the waters, eventually, we'll have to disband the crew and trade via land. You know we cannot face their navy."

"There is just as much danger traveling on foot as there is on land, either way we take a risk."

"There has been word of a rebel, a man gathering Scottish forces and fighting against the English."

"Then he is a fool, the English outnumber us my thousands, even if everyone in Scotland gathered arms to stand against them."

"They say he's beaten them and burned down a few of their villages already."

"Then he is no better than them."

He stood so quickly that his chair fell back against the ground, pushing me away from him with it.

"Why do you have no hope?! We could join him Sileas, fight at his side and win our nations freedom! Imagine it, a life without English rule!"

"I have imagined it more times that you could possibly believe Argyle! But there is no hope for it! The English, pillage, and rape, they ruins lives and make our peoples blood run thick with fear. If I had my chance, I would kill every English man I could, twice over, but they are too strong for us! You were there those years ago Argyle, my clan witnessed some of Caledonia's best warriors ride to what they thought was a meeting a peace, instead, they were killed and their bodies thrown away like it was nothing. I am not willing to risk the lives of our crew because you HOPE there is a chance at freedom, when there is none!"

"God damn you, woman! You're a coward!"

"This from the man who fears rats! RATS ARGYLE, THEY COME WITH THE BLOODY JOB!"

He came forward, and for a moment I thought he would strike me. But instead, he grabbed my arms, pulling me in and pressing his lips against mine. It was intense, forced, and verging on painful, but it forced something to rise in me that I had not felt before. I fought the urge to pursue the kiss, instead, forcing him back and making my way to the door. Argyle watched him, his eyes fierce and sharp, but he said nothing. Instead, I spoke for both of us.

"We will not speak of this, ever, Argyle. It was a moment of weakness, which we cannot afford, we must stay strong. For our crew, and for our country."

With that, I left him, making my way to my own chambers, ignoring the questions of the crew and I walked by them.


	9. Chapter 9

Hey guys,

I'm sorry it took so, so long to update this. My shite computer ( whom I still lurv : ) ) had a bit of a meltdown, but he's feeling better now. Just needed a boot up the arse.

I dedicate this chapter to The Deadly Angel, who constant support and helpful reviews have inspired me to keep writing. Thank you so much! I hope this chapter, and many more to come, reach your expectations!

Lauren x

Over the next few days, the ship had an eerie silence, tension was raw, thick in the air, and although we knew that the crew could feel it, none of them dare ask either Argyle and I what had happened between us. We stuck to our personal chambers at the best of times, and took turns commanding the crew instead of our usual partnership. Patrick brought us our meals separately, and played messenger for the two of us when trading paperwork needed signing. Two weeks we had been sailing like this, and as we crossed the Moray Firth and the Black Isle loomed ahead of us, we knew the land would be a welcome break.

True to it's name, the Black Isle was the darkest place in Scotland, there seemed to be an ever constant drizzle of cold rain, that soaked through you and chilled you to the bone. Originally used as a re-homing area for criminals, the English had pushed it to far and were now sending innocent families there for simple things, occasionally, separating children from their families. There was two brilliant things about the Black Isle. James and Julia Milligan. James and Argyle had served in battle together, and Julia was the first friend I made in Aberdeen before being whisked away by Argyle for traveling. Although the two of them had spent most of their lives in Aberdeen, they still held the strong Glasgow accents from their youths, and as hard as they were to understand at the best of times, when the two of them forget you are standing there and started arguing, it was just damn-near impossible. The two of them had been marked criminals for hiding a English traitor in their home, narrowly avoiding death, they were instead banished to the Black Isle, and, typical Milligans, had made the best out of the situation. They now run a small, cozy pub, and even enjoy the company of the locals.

James and Julia were the polar opposites, Julia, taking after her father, light, blue-eyed, short and verging on fat, while James took after his mother, tall, lean, dark and mysterious. Bringing the ship into dock and seeing their two outlines was almost comical. Argyle and I left the crew with instructions and a small amount of money each, to blow on whatever they wish. The four of us headed to the pub, and after a home cooked meal from Julia and a few whiskeys, the men headed to saddle the horses and go out hunting. They would return at sunset. Julia and I settled into the back room, leaving a young boy to manage the bar.

"He was sent here for stealing a loaf of bread from the market, trying to feed himself and his sister."

"And where is his sister?"

"The English put her to work in the whore houses, don't think they'll ever see each other again."

I couldn't answer, but offered a simple nod and a small grunt of acknowledgement. Stepping in the backroom, I sat myself next to the fire and poured a small glass of whiskey from the crystal decanter on the mantle piece. The liquid traveled down my throat like a river of fire, warming my chest and my stomach, scaring away the chill that had come over my since landing in the Black Isle. Julia did not take some, but instead sat down to a cup of boiling water and some lemon.

"So what happened between yeh and Argyle, eh?"

"What do you mean?"

"Ugh hen, don't give us that pish. Normally you can't get the pair of you tae shut up, this time, yoo's wouldn't even open yer traps!"

"Nothing of great importance, just a simple argument, I assure you."

"Yeh can't lie tae me, Sileas, yer eyes tell a completely different story."

I sighed, downing the rest of my whiskey before settling back into my seat, accepting the fact that Julia would just keep bugging me until I eventually broke and told her. I might as well get it over with.

"Have you heard of the rebel, a highlander, Argyle says he's gathering troops and fighting the English."

"Oh aye hen, 'course we've heard of him, James has been thinking of joining him…"

"Aye, so has Argyle…"

"It 'twas James that told Argyle of the rebel, wrote 'im in a letter if ah remember correctly."

"What do you think of it all Julia, you see more on this island in a week than the rest of Scotland see in a year."

"Ah think….ah think its about bloody time someone started standing up to the English."

"But it's a losing battle!"

"Yeh don't know that for certain hen, you'd be amazed at the strength that can come out of a the smallest man when he has reason enough tae fight."

"The English….their army is too powerful, even if we could defeat them, their navy would wipe us out. We've only narrowly avoided them in the past few months while sailing."

"Sileas, yeh know better than anyone o' us the pain that comes from losing everything you've ever known. Yer father and brother would 'ave wanted yeh to fight for their memory, for yer clans memory. Bring the name 'of Stewart back to the lands it fairs from."

"What if I can't.""Then at least you tried, tis better to say that than admit ye've done nothing' at all."

I didn't answer, simply reaching for the decanter to pour another glass for myself. Julia rose, taking her empty cup with her.

"I'm going tae go 'elp Robert cook the roast, it'll take ah few 'ours, so yeh just sit 'ere and 'ave a wee rest alright hen? I would advise you 'gainst going for a wee wonder."

I offered her a small grunt before I heard the door click shut. Pacing around the room, I thought of what she had said about my clan, about trying. What she had said was fine and well, but if I did not return from war, my clan would be one of the many that were disappearing of the map of Scotland, leaving no trace to its people and their customs. Ironically, my clans motto was "Courage grows strong at a wound."

But did it?


End file.
